Marcella quelled her shaking hands to still as she gathered her things. It was time. A part of her was excited. This was her, after all, the moment when everything changed. She was finally going to become independent. She chose how she talked, how she dressed, what she did. This was the start of her life. The other part of her mind, the doubtful dark part, echoed with the 'conversation' Marcella and her [i]madre[/i] held in the carriage. The topic of the machine being able to be tampered with, despite Max's reassurance that it had greatly improved, haunted her mind. 

With a final breath, Marcella followed her friends out the door.